That White Building
We left New York City moving to a Mid West town
Where the sky was a pretty blue and a land of greening gown
Buildings painted white stood out against the scene
But a sensing of the untouched made my mind internally scream
I always got this feeling as we walked their streets of old
What could I be not be seeing, what have we not been told
When we stopped to say hello we felt that we were all alone
It's not what we seen in the brochure when we decided to move our home
As the weeks and months progressed our daughter became very withdrawn
Which is very out of character for she's normally as fresh as the dawn
Then the day arrived that would change our lives forever
She never came home the previous night, the worry of parental sever
As we awoke the following morning it appeared so different from other days
The skies were a strange shade of red no voices from children's play
No sounds of life could be heard, no insects or birds on the wing
When normally it's as vibrant as life, buzzing whilst others sing
We set off to look for our daughter shouting her name as we go
Walking through empty streets as our minds drift in worried grow
We hear some strange kind of chanting, it's from that white building ahead
Whilst above us the skies turn a redded grey, I feel a sensing dread
We reach this building of white past the river turned red by the sky
Peering through the window I'm now in parental cry
For standing by the alter is my daughter in demonic stare
Around her are hoards of locusts, whilst down her body a snake she wears
Strange chanting's resonate with echo as the congregation screams in wild display
What events are unfolding in front of us it should be a normal summers day
As they turn and look towards the window so many eyes stare through the pane
We become suffocated by their hoards, it appears the locusts reign
Somehow we escaped this horror from that white building beside the river
Every time I look into my thoughts it's leaves me in a cold cold shiver
The same brochure appeared for years alluring families to this Mid West town
Who would move where no children play, in it's silence you could easily drown
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/dark-8.php
Written 11/13/2010 5:50:00 PM
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010
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